


Colliding

by faithfulDiscord



Series: Ice and Stone [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mind Palace, Mycroft is a Bit Not Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulDiscord/pseuds/faithfulDiscord
Summary: This place is the same as it's always been but it is different now.All that is left is the unnerving cold.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Ice and Stone [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919272
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Colliding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! This was so hard to write but i really like how it came out! 
> 
> Shoutout to my partner, I wouldnt have been able to get it done without thier help! 
> 
> Anyways! Comment and Kudo if you like it, it gives me life and motivation!
> 
> Enjoy!

His mind palace comes into clarity. 

The long opulent hallway is familiar in sight. The doors for his family are here where they should be, the marble is unchanged, he knows every inch of this place, to the construction to the doors to what awaits inside each room. This place is the same as it's always been but it is _different_ now. 

While this place is usually quiet, a place to gather one's thoughts and organize, it is now silent. The ambient sound of himself; of him walking across the tile, the rustle of his clothes, these sounds are not just deadened but rather cease to exist. The silence settles under his skin and brings an inherent need to escape. All that is left is the unnerving cold. 

This construct that he made that was once a beacon of safety and vault to keep his memories, is now a monument of oppressive nothingness. It has become a void of his own creation. It is desolate and lifeless where he once found comfort. All that is left is a dreadful sense of anticipation as he moves deeper. 

Frost appears first at the locked door next to Sherlock's and becomes thick and encompassing as he moves past. With each step towards the center of his being it becomes startlingly clear what has happened. The ice and the cold he has built to protect himself has dug its teeth into his very foundation; there are dark cracks that branch outwards exploiting hairline fractures from years of heartbreak and trauma and putting them in stark relief against the pale marble. 

The ice has spread like a parasite and it is his fault alone that this has gone on for so long.

Once he has purged himself of this he knows there will be scars, this type of damage does not go away without leaving behind a memory of what happened.

He comes to a wall of ice at the end of this hallway. Startling thick but clear as glass, it reveals what is being guarded. A simple key resting on a small end table. He lets himself stare for all but a moment, trying to prepare himself for what is to come. This will be difficult but knows it must be done. He lays his hands on the ice and let's the cold sting his palms. The memories come with the pain that slowly starts to move up his arms. 

A deep and smoke rough voice echoes first, _"Hello, Mycroft." “Beautiful.” “Come on, gorgeous.”_

It’s the simplest one but even that is almost too much. This is why he left and let the ice take over these memories, these feelings are painful to a degree that he has never felt from previous encounters. 

The next layer comes in a slow wave, nothing but a sensation. It starts at the tip of his fingers and moves through his body. It is a memory of warmth and security, the feeling only this person has achieved for Mycroft, comforting in the moment but it now leaves him _aching_ and _wanting_. 

He shakes. The cold bites at his skin and seeps his strength. He wants to collapse, wants to keep himself protected, wants to leave this place and never come back. 

He pushes forward.

Another memory, one that is covered in fog to hide the identity of _him_ but that does nothing to stop the pain. 

_Soft sheets and a firm bed greet him. A laugh, not at him, never at him is pressed into his shoulder. "Do you trust me?" The question is said with a smile and an edge of mischief but the question is genuine. He hesitates, Mycroft Holmes does not **hesitate** but this time he does. The weight of his lover comes off of him and his name is said in a quiet tone. _

_He answers the only way he can because it's nothing but the truth. "Implicitly."_

He's crying now, with each earth shattering shake a broken sound is wretched from his body. His knees finally give out, he lets his hands fall and closes his eyes, prostrate before the barrier he created. The one he knows he won't be able to push through.

"What are you doing here?" Mycroft doesn't recognize his own voice, it sounds hollow even to himself. 

He felt a push of his third knuckle on his right hand and a gentle squeeze of his fingers, just a few seconds ago. Their signal to say that they are not alone and not in danger. 

"Checking up on you, brother mine." Sherlock's voice doesn't carry through this void but settles in Mycroft's body nonetheless. "Your ineptitude to deal with your situation was palpable from another country."

The words sting in their truth; he looks at the ice in front him, he's barely scratched the surface, has barely melted the first layer. "What an astute observation, Sherlock." 

The words were supposed to be harsh but they come out lost sounding, he finds his throat being rubbed raw with emotions being held barely at bay. 

"You loved him." It's a statement, cutting with its precision. Silence falls between them, it's not like Mycroft would deny it, it'd be nothing but lies if he did. "And he told you that you shouldn't." 

" _Sherlock_ -" He wants him to stop, to not look deeper. To not see his failings but of course his brother keeps pushing.

"So you locked it away, from the very beginning." Thinly veiled anger leaks into Sherlock's voice as he continues on, "You didn't freeze because you couldn't deal with the feelings you had for him but because he _asked_ it of you."

" _No_." He cries out, it vibrates through him. His construct shakes with the force of it. "Don't you dare-"

"You let a man, one you _knew_ was _incapable_ of loving you back, bring you to _this point_. Lost in your own head, struggling to come to grips with your _feelings_. You listened to him, _did as he asked_ , out of your _care_ for him, despite knowing he would give you _no_ chance."

" _And if I did_?!" Anger rages hot in his throat, his nails dig crescents into his palms as he whips his head around to where the voice of Sherlock resides. Only a small corner of his desk comes into focus with Sherlock leaning against it, a small part of his surroundings coming forward in his mind palace. His hostility needs to be pointed at something besides a voice he can only hear.

His eyes burn as he bears holes into Sherlock, his voice cracks before his brother can say anything more. "What then?" 

"Then you're a fool and an idiot." The words sting, he sees wetness gather at the corners of his vision. The shame of being weak, of not being in control floods him but it's the way Sherlock comes closer and kneels just behind him is what breaks him. His impossible brother is shielding him, protecting him. 

He stares back at the wall he can't break and shudders through a broken cry, Sherlock stays, and only speaks once more when he calms. His voice is soft but asking, no demanding Mycroft to listen and do what has to be done. "Say something. Talk to him, confront him, but do not continue doing this."

**Author's Note:**

> Also short anouncement! After this one there is only going to be one more installment for this series but i love you guys so if you want to chat me up ive got discord and tumblr! 
> 
> Discord: faithfulDiscord96#4305  
> Tumblr: faithful-discord


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